


Late Night Tears

by Featherfur



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu being a lovely boyfriend, Chronic Pain, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Sakusa in pain because chronic pain is a pain, graphic description of chronic pain, hypermobilty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:46:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherfur/pseuds/Featherfur
Summary: Another pulse of pain radiated from Kiyoomi’s wrists and he cursed, pressing his eyes shut and holding the limb to his chest. He rocked once, the smallest sob breaking from his lips as it traveled down his body. His knee shouted in agony next and he fell forward until his stomach was pressed against the joint.“‘Omi?” Atsumu’s voice was a welcome distraction and a thousand knives into the mental home of pain.Kiyoomi didn’t respond, didn’t- couldn’t. His lips wouldn’t move despite his best efforts, his mind screaming like a maniac to get him to say something.He said nothing.Sakusa Kiyoomi has had chronic pain since he was young and he had always hidden it. Taking the pills before it hit, avoided people on bad days. But when it strikes in the middle of the night, what can he do but let his boyfriend take care of him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 232
Collections: kagsivity's fic archive





	Late Night Tears

Gold glowed across the bed sheets, spreading out inch by inch like the sun itself was blooming over the body that lay there. The light of the buildings was harsh to those unused to it, but here in the dark of the bedroom it was a welcome presence. The steady breathing of the athlete was visible beside Kiyoomi.

The wind whistled around the apartment, barely an echo to the thoughts of the only one awake. It ran, dancing over the building like a cat playing and tossing its toys for its human to notice. It was so loud, so distracting and yet there was absolutely nothing that registered.

Another pulse of pain radiated from Kiyoomi’s wrists and he cursed, pressing his eyes shut and holding the limb to his chest. He rocked once, the smallest sob breaking from his lips as it traveled down his body. His knee shouted in agony next and he fell forward until his stomach was pressed against the joint.

“‘Omi?” Atsumu’s voice was a welcome distraction and a thousand knives into the mental home of pain.

Kiyoomi didn’t respond, didn’t-  _ couldn’t _ . His lips wouldn’t move despite his best efforts, his mind screaming like a maniac to get him to  _ say something _ .

He said nothing.

“Omi?” Atsumu called again, the rustling of the sheets drawing Kiyoomi back from the fog of pain and panic. “Omi? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” Kiyoomi spat the words, trying to rid himself of the taste of bile in his mouth. The taste of his own failure and self hatred.

He’d dealt with this for years, he shouldn’t be so weak. He shouldn’t be so easily brought to tears and noise over a little pain. He shouldn’t have woken Atsumu. He shouldn’t be a bother to his boyfriend.

“You don’t sound fine…”

“ _ I’m fine _ .”

Nothing else would come out. No plea would ever escape Kiyoomi’s lips, no matter how much he craved to feel those words leave him. Panic dragged at Kiyoomi’s lips as another wave of pain wracked him, pulling at his joints like they were intent on removing themselves.

He wanted to scream out in pain, wanted to beg someone to stop it. He wanted to fight, throw a punch against whatever was happening but there was nothing to fight. He wanted to sob, get something to happen, something that wasn’t pain.

He didn’t move an inch.

“Kiyoomi.” Atsumu’s voice was as soft as a feather, as sharp as a scalpel but Kiyoomi would accept anything. He needed something but words were trapped against his lips like he’d caged his soul behind it.

“Omi, tell me what you need? Can you say anything?”

Kiyoomi shook his head, desperate for some form of understanding. The quietest squeak of pain escaped instead as he cradled his wrist again to his chest.

His own fingers wrapped around the aching joint, squeezing as tightly as he could to distract from the internal pain. Each finger was a hot candle, boiling against his skin but there was only relief where there should have been agony.

As if to fight against that revelation, his knee throbbed. A leg shaking, body echoing throb. All from one simple spot.

“Baby, you’re crying.” Atsumu whispered, and Kiyoomi flinched back. He hadn’t heard the setter get up from the bed, didn’t realize he’d become so close. “I’m going to call Motoya-kun okay? Unless you say no.”

_ Motoya _ . Kiyoomi’s mind tossed the name around, mild relief flooding him. Motoya would understand. Motoya was a good cousin, he knew how to help.

He rocked his head down sharply, unsure if Atsumu was even paying attention anymore but the urge was too strong to ignore.

He didn’t know how long the setter was gone, didn’t know if he was even gone at all or if Kiyoomi had simply become deaf. Nothing was real, life was simply the echoing pain rolling through his body. When his knee seemed to abate his elbow joined the symphony followed by his right shoulder. He leaned, his body running on only the barest hint of orders, and collapsed onto his left shoulder.

The bed met him first, soft and pliable. Then he felt the shift as he started to slip, he yelled internally and ordered himself to catch himself. His good arm lifted up in a token protest but it wasn’t enough and he closed his eyes for the impact.

Arms caught him instead.

_ Hot, burning _ arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him up, and it was heaven. The heat was such a welcome relief that Kiyoomi finally realized he was cold.

Kiyoomi whimpered as he was pressed against a chest, broad and firm, and for a moment he thought Izuna had found him collapsed in the locker room again. Another wave of pain rocked through his wrist and his fingers ached like someone was grinding each joint together.

“ ‘Zuna-san?” He slurred out, only for his mind to supply Motoya’s name. Hadn’t someone said they were going to get Motoya?

“ ‘Toya?” He asked instead, waiting to hear the familiar voice of his best friend.

“Not quite, Omi…. But don’t worry, I talked with him. We’re going to get you some meds and in the bath, ‘kay?” Atsumu’s voice said, it could have been a shout or a whisper and Kiyoomi wouldn’t know the difference.

He simply went limp, nothing but trust in the arms of his setter.

It only took a moment for Atsumu to shift and scoop up Kiyoomi into a bridal style carry. His body was warm, like a furnace and Kiyoomi pressed the base of his wrist against his shoulder to get some sort of relief against the pain. The movement of Atsumu walking still hurt, but the press of his body was distracting enough for Kiyoomi to keep himself tightly held to reality.

He clung to him as Atsumu sat down at the base of the bathtub and twisted the knobs. The water flooded the bathtub with a roar and Kiyoomi flinched, pressing his head into the base of Atsumu’s neck to hide from the noise.

He hated noise sometimes. There was just too much of it and he could never get away, it followed him throughout life. No matter how he ran, how he screamed, how he cried and begged, everything made noise and he couldn’t drown it out.

“I know, I’m sorry. Don’t worry, I’ll turn it off in a moment, we’re almost done.” Atsumu had been talking, for how long Kiyoomi didn’t know, but the words finally wiggled their way through the glass that had formed around Kiyoomi and his connection to the world.

“ ‘Tsumu.” Kiyoomi whispered, shame flooding through him. Atsumu hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t asked to deal with Kiyoomi at his messiest.

“That’s me, Omi-Omi, I’m here. Don’t worry about a thing, let me take care of you for once. ‘Kay?”

“ ‘m sorry… I’m fine… You can go back to sleep.”

“No can do, Omi….” The noise of the water switched off and Kiyoomi almost whined when Atsumu shifted and pulled away slightly. “You gotta get undressed to get in the bath, c’mon. I know I’m not Motoya-kun but I’m not putting you in a bath with clothes on. Do you want me to leave?”

In the more aware part of his mind, Kiyoomi thought the idea of that was hilarious. They dressed in front of each other daily, they’d been to onsen’s together. They’d been stuck in the open showers together more than once. They’d had sex more than enough times that nakedness had lost any sort of shame.

The part of his mind that was in control though, only heard the order to get undressed. So he tried, wriggling in Atsumu’s lap to try and pull his sweats off. His knee twitched and a broken sob fell from his open lips, nails buried in Atsumu’s shoulders as he tried to fight through the pain.

He heard someone curse but he didn’t know who said it. It could have been ten years or ten seconds, but heat met his body and slowly encased him and he realized he had been put in the bathtub. He couldn’t tell if he was still dressed or not, couldn’t bring himself to check and move his face from Atsumu’s worried gaze.

Atsumu moved from his gaze for only a few seconds before he was sitting back on the edge of the tub and in his hands was Omi’s travelling case.

“That’s mine.” Kiyoomi croaked, lifting one hand up before the pain became too much and he let it splash back down. A second later Atsumu held up a bottle of Kiyoomi’s pain relievers.

“Oh… That’s mine.” He said again, trying to figure out how he was supposed to open it when his hands hurt so terribly.

“I know, I’m going to go get some water so you can take them okay?” Atsumu said sweetly, and Kiyoomi hummed.

He lifted his good hand up when Atsumu returned, making grabby fingers for his friend. Atsumu’s lips quirked up and Kiyoomi wondered what he’d have to do to keep him doing that forever. Atsumu took his spot beside him again, passing over two pills and a juice box with the straw already poked through.

“ ‘M not a kid.” Kiyoomi complained after he swallowed the pills, then sunk down into the water until the box was resting on his chest and he could drink it with his hands under the water.

Atsumu just hummed quietly, tapping away at his phone and sitting back against the wall patient as ever.

  
  


“... Why do we have juice boxes?” Kiyoomi finally asked, when the pain had subsided to a much more reasonable level and the brain fog had slipped away.

“Bokkun thought he was going to room with me and he likes to drink them so I bought some before Meian swapped you and him.” Atsumu said, back cracking slightly as he sat up. His phone clattered against the ground as he moved to lay his arms on the side of the tub, eyes on Kiyoomi’s.

“Wanna tell me what that was?”

“No.” Kiyoomi slipped further into the water, letting it dance just below his nose. After a moment of Atsumu’s staring he gave in, sitting up properly and moving his eyes to his wrists.

“I’m hypermobile, Atsumu. That’s what my ‘freaky’ wrists are called scientifically. It causes pain a lot, but sometimes it can cause extra stuff like arthritis… They don’t know what it is, honestly so the doctors just keep saying it’s the hypermobility. But my knees aren’t, my fingers aren’t, my shoulders-” Kiyoomi sucked in a breath, he didn’t have the energy to be angry and Atsumu didn’t deserve to have to see that. “It just happens sometimes. I’m sorry you had to see it. Normally I can feel it starting and get the painkillers, but I was asleep this time. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s fine, Omi, ya needed help. Ya were pretty out of it.”

“Sorry… It’s… Hard to concentrate, when everything hurts.” Kiyoomi breathed, waiting for the next blow.

Maybe he was a freak, or a baby, or he shouldn’t be on the court. He’d heard it all before, he just never wanted to hear it from someone he cared about.

“Yeah, Motoya-kun told me. Are you going to be okay in time for practice?” Atsumu said instead, his hand slipping down into the water to gently wrap around Kiyoomi’s wrist.

Kiyoomi blinked twice. This wasn’t where most people asked about practice. This was where people complained about him waking them up, or told him he needed to go to a doctor and stay there, or told him that maybe he shouldn’t be left alone if it’s so bad.

“What time is it?”

“About two thirty ish.” Atsumu said after a moment, fingers pressing into Kiyoomi’s wrist firmly. They stroked over the skin, massaging the aching tissue underneath and Kiyoomi thought that he could fall asleep even with the rest of his body still mildly aching.

“Then yeah, I’ll be fine… Might need to stretch a little more.”

“Good.”

They fell into a silent moment, the only sounds their breath.

Kiyoomi’s eyes slid shut and he focused only on the gently touching of Atsumu’s fingers on his. Minutes passed before he felt lips on his inner wrist, almost shy, and he opened his eyes to look at his boyfriend again.

“Can…” Atsumu started, then closed his mouth, lowering the limb into the water and reaching for the other. “Why didn’t you tell me Omi?”

Ah.

That’s why Atsumu wasn’t calling him a baby, because he was going to break up with him instead. That was fine. Kiyoomi knew this could be terrifying to people, watching your partner fall apart in tears over pain and become confused and useless.

“It’s embarrassing, Atsumu… And I can usually take care of myself. I’m sorry I woke you-”

“This isn’t about you waking me. This time you couldn’t help yourself, if Motoya-kun hadn’t been awake I wouldn’t have been able to help.” Atsumu cut him off, the grip on Kiyoomi’s wrist tightening for a millisecond before gentling again. “I was scared, Kiyoomi. I… I want to be able to help, why wouldn’t you trust me?”

Kiyoomi’s wrist twisted, ignoring the pain it caused, to grab onto Atsumu’s hand and squeezed until he was sure Atsumu was real. That he hadn’t left yet.

“Atsumu, it’s not that. I swear, I trust you more than anyone.” Kiyoomi said honestly, desperate to know that Atsumu understood. “More than Motoya, more than Wakatoshi-kun. More than my siblings. I didn’t… Tell you…”

How did one confess to your boyfriend that you were so pathetic when you hurt that everyone else had been disgusted enough to leave? How did one explain the panic of losing a loved one over something you can’t control?

“Shit… Sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have asked. You’re tired as all hell, you don’t have to say a single thing baby. I promise, I’m not mad. I just wanted to know, but I wasn’t thinkin’. You don’t have to answer that right now.” Atsumu said as Kiyoomi’s mouth traced out words that wouldn’t come. He dipped his head down and pressed a fresh kiss to Kiyoomi’s wrist, sliding his fingers through the slackened hold until he could press a kiss to his knuckles as well.

“Please don’t break up with me.” Kiyoomi breathed, not even completely sure he’d said it until Atsumu’s eyes blinked at him in confusion.

“Omi-”

“Please, I will do anything. Please don’t leave me, I can sleep in a different bed or something but I don’t want to lose you-”

“Woah, woah, beautiful, you’re panicking over something that ain’t ever going to happen.” Atsumu didn’t flinch when Kiyoomi’s nails dug into his palm, simply gave his hand a gentle squeeze back. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Cuz you thought I would leave you?”

When Kiyoomi nodded, Atsumu’s eyes softened immeasurably. They glowed with absolute affection and adoration and Kiyoomi’s chest tightened.

“Never ever. I’m not leavin’ ya, especially not over this. If you wake me up that means I get to help you, don’t ever think I’m going anywhere, baby.”

Kiyoomi’s vision blurred, turning the sight of Atsumu into a blurred painting of his lover. He squeezed his eyes shut, the pressure in his chest building until he sobbed and he felt lips on his forehead instead. Atsumu didn’t pull away immediately, pressing a kiss there until a second sob wracked Kiyoomi’s body.

The moment Atsumu was out of the way, Kiyoomi was following after him. Atsumu didn’t flinch, letting the wet arms wrap around him and pull him to an even wetter chest. He held Kiyoomi as close as he could, lips brushing over his skin in a comforting trail of kisses and sweet words.

“This is a shitty way to hug.” Kiyoomi whispered into his ear when the press of his hips against the bathtub became painful, memorizing the rumble of Atsumu’s laugh.

“Are you ready to get out then?” Atsumu asked, moving to empty the tub when Kiyoomi nodded.

Kiyoomi let go of Atsumu unhappily, nose scrunched in a pout as Atsumu stood to get a towel. Atsumu turned back around, fluffy towel open, and snorted softly.

“Do I need to carry you to bed, baby?” He teased and grinned when Kiyoomi grumbled and slowly moved to his feet.

Kiyoomi’s feet touched the outside of the tub and Atsumu was there, wrapping the towel around him. Kiyoomi wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer until he could hide in his neck again. He breathed in the familiar scent of Atsumu’s cologne, the sweet strawberry scent of his shampoo, and the bitter smell of his shaving cream.

Kiyoomi’s back relaxed, even with the small waves of pain rolling through him he could have fallen asleep like this.

He must have, because he opened his eyes as he was being lowered into the bed. Atsumu was humming something, a lullaby that his granny used to sing, as he gently pressed Kiyoomi’s legs under the covers. Kiyoomi sighed softly as Atsumu pulled the comforter over him completely and tucked him in.

He held his arms out, waiting for Atsumu to climb in his own side, and made grabby hands until Atsumu moved and pulled Kiyoomi against his chest. Kiyoomi melted immediately against him and held him as tightly as he could.

Atsumu’s hands were broad and warm as they stroked over his back, slow and steady.

“Atsumu… I’ll tell you more in the morning… I’m sorry.” Kiyoomi whispered against Atsumu’s skin, feeling the soft hum he gave in response.

“Don’t worry about it baby, you can tell me when you’re ready. I was just scared for you, that’s all. I love you, Omi. Don’t forget that ‘kay? All of you. When I asked you out I wasn’t just askin’ for your good days, I was askin’ for all of ya in my arms. Good and bad.”

“You sound like we’re married.”

“One day, Omi. I’m just getting ready for that day. Gotta be the best husband for the best husband…. Which is you by the way.” Atsumu added, nuzzling into the thick curls on Kiyoomi’s head. He smiled to himself at Kiyoomi’s choked laugh and nuzzled his head again.

“I love you too.”

“I know, now get some sleep. Captain will kick both of our asses if we’re late to practice.” Atsumu whispered.

He dragged his fingertips up and down Kiyoomi’s back, feeling his heartbeat and the way he was slowly relaxing. He shut his own eyes, humming granny’s old lullaby, and smiled when Kiyoomi’s breath smoothed and slowed and they both drifted off together.


End file.
